


Closed

by drawingblinds (breathtaken)



Category: History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-29
Updated: 2007-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/pseuds/drawingblinds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It is not loving Dakin that does it, finally.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closed

It is not loving Dakin that does it, finally.

David's changed, and he knows that Dakin looks for the ironies, even cultivates them. So it makes a crazy kind of sense that telling his former infatuation that he's not going to talk to him, fuck off, and being unable to care if he goes or stays is what makes Dakin push him up against the wall behind The Bugle and do things with his hands that once he'd only dreamed of. The whole evening was dissonant, David still reeling from the hardest year of his life, and he can't just order a pint and erase himself back to the point where anyone still called him Posner.

Dakin's tongue is in his mouth, speech impossible (how surprising that he doesn't want to hear it after all), and his fingers are _skilled_ in all the right ways. _So he's a little bit homosexual after all_ , David realises - he's had enough men to tell - and feels a bitter satisfaction as Dakin falls that little bit further from his pedestal. The Unattainable, attained. And never living up to its possibilities, of course.

Dakin is on his knees now, reckless wild Dakin making even an act of submission into one of a conquering force, and David grimaces humourlessly at the risks of the situation because right now, even prison seems preferable to going back. The dark-haired man below him flicks his tongue, and as a wave of arousal surges through him David realises just who he's become. He has obtained the one he's wanted for so long, and is emotionless. No love, no need; not even anger at this manipulative bastard who only wants to be wanted. Dakin may be able to speed up his heartbeat, tighten his balls, and make him cry out in sensation, but David's mind is at last closed to him. To all of it.

 

* * *

 

Six months ago, he had turned to Scripps just a few metres away, on the corner of Arnley Road, and said with tear-filled eyes, "You left me."

Scripps, bewildered and guilty, had replied, "Pos... you knew that'd happen. We talked about our applications together."

And the expression on his face was one of such hurt that David had mumbled, "I know. Sorry," biting his tongue not to tell his friend that he might have _known_ , but that that didn't mean he'd _understood_.

Tonight he walked in the opposite direction and didn't turn even when he heard the other man call his name.


End file.
